


richard adopts aidan (richard armitage POV)

by ocaptainrogers



Category: The Hobbit (2012) RPF
Genre: Fluff, Humor, Idiots in Love, M/M, james nesbitt likes cashew nuts, kind of, richard adopts aidan, richard armitage POV, richard helps, richard is forever annoyed at aidan and dean, there's a lot of richard, uncle richard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-26
Updated: 2013-02-26
Packaged: 2017-12-03 15:44:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/699889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ocaptainrogers/pseuds/ocaptainrogers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Richard has no children of his own, but seems to enjoy taking care of people that appears to have difficulties doing so themselves. </p><p>Or, Richard finds himself acting like Aidan's uncle and instead of sitting down and think about what's going on with his life, he chooses to embrace and make the most of it instead.</p><p>           /p.s. i suck at titles so i'm sorry about that</p>
            </blockquote>





	richard adopts aidan (richard armitage POV)

**Author's Note:**

> this is not beta'd, any mistake is my own

“Aidan?” Richard calls; his voice is soft and when he raps his knuckles against the door of Aidan’s trailer it’s barely audible. It’s already 5:40 in the morning and Aidan’s not up yet. Richard clears his throat when no one answers him. “Aidan, it’s Richard. It’s time to go.”

This time there’s a low groan coming from inside and Richard grins. He’s already late for make-up himself, but he always comes by Aidan’s trailer to get him up; at some point during the time they’ve worked together he is the self-proclaimed keeper and has appointed it his duty to keep an eye on Aidan, and so far he’s doing rather good.

“Are you even up?” Aidan’s using an awful lot of time opening the door; Richard suspects it might have something with him being up late with Dean last night. Those two never learn. He’d stopped by Dean’s trailer ten minutes ago to make sure he got to work on time too, but Aidan has always been the focus of Richard’s concern.

_“No.”_

Well, that settles that. Richard sets his shoulders and pushes his key into the lock – he had one made since _somebody_ needed to take care of this guy and since Richard plays his uncle in the movie, he thinks he’s sort of entitled to be uncle in real life as well.

“I’m coming in, Aidan, you’ve better gotten your trousers on at least,” he says in his best Thorin-voice and pushes the door open once it’s unlocked. The entire trailer is dark, not a single light is on, not even Aidan’s bedside lamp Richard knows he keeps on all day.

Switching the lights on he immediately spots Aidan in the bed, under a heap of duvets and a blanket that Richard swears has to come from Dean’s trailer. He takes cautious steps towards the bed and can’t quell the worry that creeps up on him when there are no movements on the bed. “Aidan?”

The heap responds with a groan and then it moves, revealing a tired face surrounded by the messiest hair Richard’s ever laid eyes on. “Whazhepenin’?”

“You’ve overslept,” Richard says, although it’s rather obvious – he wouldn’t’ve come in otherwise, and walks over to the bed and sits down, dragging the duvet down further so he can see Aidan’s face better.

Aidan blinks and rubs at his eyes, reminding Richard of an otter trying to clean its whiskers. He smiles to himself and nearly chuckles before he catches himself and hawks softly.  “It’s,” he starts and checks his watch. “It’s ten to six.” Great; now they’re both terribly late – Peter’s going to be … well, he’s never really pissed, he’ll probably shake his head at them though and make them do more takes than necessary as punishment.

Aidan jerks up into a sitting position, nearly colliding with Richard who’s sitting right on the edge of the bed. “TEN TO SIX?!” he yelps before tossing the duvet to the floor only to get it tangled in his long legs. Richard gets out of the way and decides to make them both a cup of coffee while they wait, ignoring the string of curses Aidan throws around in a sleepy version of a panicked rage-fit.

“Yes,” he answers after a beat and puts the coffeemaker on before retrieving two cups from the cabinet over the sink. “We’re already late, but you’d do well to hurry up,” he adds, voice calm, but still with parts of the Thorin-authority weaved into it. Richard nods to himself and thinks he’s doing quite well at being an uncle, considering.

“It’s that bloody alarm, it didn’t go off,” Aidan complains, quickly followed by the sound of something heavy hitting the floor.

Richard turns around just as Aidan picks himself up from the carpet, pants around his knees. “Be careful,” he mutters, but Aidan’s too busy trying to locate the hoodie he’d worn yesterday, the blue one with the Union Jack printed on it, he got it from Dean; Richard smiles and can’t help but wonder when the two of them are going to stop dancing around each other, thinking that he might have to stop and push them together himself if it doesn’t stop soon. “Check under the bed,” Richard calls when asked if he’s seen it.

“Ah, there it is!” comes the joyous reply just before the man himself walks into the kitchen area, hair still sticking out in odd angles, but at least there’s a smile on his face. He’s still looking tired, as if he hasn’t had any sleep at all, and collapses into one of the chairs with a grunt.

Richard shakes his head fondly at his costar’s childlike manner and pours them both coffee. “Here you go,” he sets both mugs down and sits down himself opposite of a now confused Aidan Turner.

“I thought we were late,” Aidan asks, but accepts the cup anyway and holds it with both hands, taking a few sips here and there.

“We are,” Richard confirms, but doesn’t do much else than take a sip of his own coffee. It tastes terrible. He adds ‘ _new coffeemaker for Aidan’_ on his mental list of things Aidan needs and puts the cup back down, not swallowing another drop of that foul liquid. “We’re so late, in fact, that we have time to …” he was going to say _enjoy_ , but the coffee tasted like boiled mud-water, “Have a cup of coffee,” he finishes after a moment and tries not to grimace as the taste lingers on his tongue.

Aidan appears to be on board with that plan and looks to be enjoying his cup of coffee a lot more than Richard is, or was. The only reason he can find to justify that is that poor Aidan has had to drink that poor excuse of coffee for so long that he’s gotten used to the taste.

“Well,” Richard says before Aidan has time to down half of his drinks and checks his wristwatch again. “We’re going to be even later if we don’t get a move on.”

“Oh, fuck,” Aidan mutters and leaps out of his chair to find his shoes. Richard, who is in both jacket and shoes already, finds Aidan’s jacket and holds it up for him when he’s ready to go, feeling all too much like a father dressing his child up for school as he guides Aidan’s left arm through the jacket when it gets stuck.

They hurry over to the make-up trailer and arrive there just as James, Mark, Adam and Dean steps out of it.

“There ya are, yer late,” James slurs; he looks tired and worn, but that might be the make-up, but he sends them both friendly smiles and gives them a clap on the shoulder.

Richard folds his arms over his chest and fixes Aidan with a stern look, “Sorry about that, one of us had a bit of trouble getting out of bed.”

Aidan lets out a nervous laugh and rattles off the excuse about his alarm clock not working and something about a movie airing a bit late, but he just had to see it. “Sorry, guys, won’t happen again.”

Dean smiles at Aidan from behind his newly applied braided mustache and pushes hair away from his face. “Now when have I heard that before,” he smiles and taps his chin for good measure. “Oh, _yesterday!_ ”

Aidan blushes and whacks Dean good-naturedly over the back of his head, earning a _‘hey, watch the braids!’_ from him. Aidan sniggers and apologizes by giving Dean a half-hug. Richard rolls his eyes and shakes his head, muttering something about dumb Irish lads and dense Kiwis under his breath. James gives him a look that clearly says - _you’ve got a lot on yer hands and I don’t envy you’._

“I wish Kili had braids,” Aidan says and fondles one of Fili’s braids when Richard turns his attention back on them. They’re standing close, Dean with a soft look in his eyes that can only mean one thing and although Richard wants to say it for them some days, he’ll wait until they figure it out for themselves. Because he is a good uncle and that’s what good uncles do – help their nephews realize things on their own accord.

“You just be glad you don’t have to glue a mustache to your face every morning, Aid,” Dean replies and raises his eyebrows at Aidan, folding his hands over his chest. “Or a big beard and a wig like Ian, or Stephen!”

Aidan laughs and runs his fingers down one of the braids by Dean’s ear. “I know, I know. Woulda liked some braids though, all I’ve got is this trinket at the back of me head that keeps the hair outta my face, that’s not enough, I think.”

Dean hums and looks to be contemplating something for a moment before he leans in closer to Aidan; his whisper is probably meant only for Aidan to hear, but Richard can hear it pretty clearly too though he does a fine job of pretending he doesn’t, “I’ll do a couple small ones on your wig during lunch.”

The look of gratitude and wonder on Aidan’s face is a sight to behold; his eyes lights up like a child on Christmas morning and his smile is that of barely contained glee, “Fantastic! Have you got any trinkets to keep it in place?”

“There’re a couple small ones in a bowl by my mirror in there,” Dean says pointing at the trailer Aidan and Richard should’ve been inside of thirty minutes ago.

“Great, see ya later then, smelly,” Aidan laughs and shares another half-hug with Dean before he jogs over to the trailer and gets inside, turning back to stick his tongue out at Dean when he hears the ‘ _if I’m smelly then you’re stinky!’_ from him.

Richard smiles at their friendly banter and shares a couple more words with James before they take off in different directions, James and the others towards costume fitting and Richard after Aidan to get his prosthetics, wig and make-up on.

***

“No, all I’m saying is that if I don’t get to bring them home with me after, I’m gonna buy them.”

Richard laughs and shakes his head, shoving his hands down the pockets of his jeans as he walks with James.

“I’m serious; they’re brilliant, keeps yer feet warm and comfortable-,”

“A bit too big as well, perhaps?” Richard shoots in and chuckles when James gives him a playful shove.

James huffs, “Aye, perhaps. But ye can’t tell me yer don’t wanna take yer own costume home with ye,” he says and fixes Richard with this look that says he knows exactly how much Richard wants to keep Thorin’s costume; every single piece of it, even the trinkets in his hair.

“Aye,” James hums, having seen the look on Richard’s face. “I’ve heard with the lads, they all wanna keep theirs too, ya know.”

“You think they’d let us keep them?” Richard asks and tries not to sound too hopeful about it, but he can’t really help the childlike wistfulness that laces his voice as he pictures himself being handed Thorin’s costume by someone in the costume department, or maybe even Peter Jackson himself.

James scratches his chin and shrugs, “Well, I haven’t really _asked_ them about it yet,” he mutters. “But I’m leading up to it!” he hurriedly adds when Richard shoots him a glare.

They both sniggers then and walks on over to the trailer park. Richard looks down at himself, still in Thorin’s costume since they’re on a short break, and fiddles with the belt-buckle. He really, _really_ wants to keep it all.

They’re almost at the trailers when Richard shoots out an arm to halt James, just as they’re passing the entry to the set’s cafeteria, “Hey, I was going to get some tea,” he says and gestures towards the door to the right of them when James stops too. “Want some?”

James shakes his head and pops another handful of cashew nuts into his mouth; he’s been munching on them for the last week now and it’s secretly driving everybody nuts; he chews too loud and _hums_. So far no one’s had the balls to say anything to him, but it probably won’t be long until someone does.

“Nah, I’m good,” James answers and smiles, his hand already fishing up more nuts from the small container he keeps in his pocket. He carries on chewing and humming and starts telling strange stories that he doesn’t remember telling afterwards, cluing Richard in on the fact that he makes everything up as he goes.

“Alright, then,” Richard says and is about to be off when he suddenly turns around again, “Have you seen Aidan, and Dean, by any chance?”

James stops chewing and blinks, eyes darting around them for a moment before settling on Richard. “Um, cafeteria, I think.”

Richard waves and runs off, ignoring the sight of a slightly confused James Nesbitt, probably wondering why Richard’s always asking about those two.

***

It’s gradual. Slow like the tide; a subtle shift the little world they’ve carved out for themselves down in New Zealand. No one notices anything. Not Aidan, who is directly affected, nor Richard who is in fact the root of it all. James doesn’t seem to see or hear anything out of the ordinary either, which is most unusual since he’s the go-to guy for when someone wants to know something, because James is the type of guy who sees and hears stuff. It’s like things seeks the guy out and plasters itself to him instead of the other way around.

James Nesbitt has long ears and keeps his eyes open, and not to be overly dramatic but since it’s all relatively happening in the same universe it just seems fair to say that _his gaze pierces cloud, shadow, earth, and flesh_. It’s a perfectly fitting metaphor, considering.

But sadly it appears that something escapes even the great James Nesbitt, the most obvious of things too; the ‘Richard adopts Aidan’ phenomena being one of the few things that ever do, mind you.

It started out as simple gestures of reassurance because Richard cared. He had enough love to go around the lot of them, twice, but, let’s put it this way: if Richard’s love had been a heat seeking missile, Aidan would’ve been its sole target.

The reason why Richard had been so eager to take care of Aidan, James would think after it had all been made clear to him, was because he didn’t have any children of his own. Still doesn’t, but that’s not the point; the point is that Richard is the self-proclaimed caretaker of Aidan Turner and _it takes a whole year before anybody finds out about it._

It started with small things like Richard making sure to get Aidan up in the morning, saving seats for him (and Dean) in the cafeteria during breakfast, lunch and dinner. He would always hover extra close when they had interviews, often prodding James asking him to look after the youngest of the cast when he couldn’t.

From there it was only a matter of months before the innocent visits in the wee hours and the watchful eye turned into constantly fussing and fretting and _worrying_. It was a stressful job, but Richard didn’t mind, neither did Aidan; from the looks of it he seemed to thrive in the attention he got from the older co-star.

They’re doing a bit for one of the big TV stations in the U.S. when the first signs of Richards unconsciously suppressed father instincts shove their way up to the surface. The whole lot is dressed like the classy gentlemen they are, Richard himself in a grey cardigan with a light blue dress-shirt underneath, a dark grey tie, and black jeans.

Dean is wearing that purple dress-shirt of his with two buttons open at the top and grey dress pants. Richard sees the way Aidan eyes slides over the form of his cast mate, but turns the other way and counts to ten as a tiny smile tugs at his lips, pretending not to notice.

Aidan himself is clad in worn jeans and a flannel shirt that has seen better days. Richard is torn between chiding him for his choice of wear and fondly shaking his head whilst not doing anything about it. In the end he can’t take it anymore and strides over to where Aidan and Dean are standing and chatting, now joined by Adam, who’s looking dapper as always in his dark blue knitted cardigan and bowtie; no doubt Mark Hadlow’s doing, that guy has pretty much given new meaning to the phrase _‘take him under his wing’_. If Richard didn’t know any better he’d say Mark had adopted Adam. Huh, well, that’s a new one.

“Aidan,” Richard says once he’s reached them; they’re all still in one of the larger buildings on the set in Wellington, a building that’s mostly used in situations like this; a place for everyone to gather before they go out as one massive flock of handsome bastards – that’s what Andy would’ve said if he was there, Richard’s quite confident about that.

Aidan immediately perks up at the mention of his name and turns around smiling; sometimes he reminds Richard of Kili, or maybe it’s Kili reminding him of Aidan, he can’t be sure, they’re so similar. “Yeah?”

Dean and Adam look up too and greet Richard with their own smiles and nods, taking a few steps back to join Graham and a couple of the others a few paces away.

“I don’t think that’s something you’d wanna wear where we’re going, young man,” Richard scolds and gestures towards all of Aidan, his voice is soft though, and the smile just won’t leave his face.

Aidan looks down at himself like it just occurred to him that jeans with holes in the knees and a shirt that maybe should’ve been washed a week ago isn’t something one should be wearing when they’re expected to do interviews for big TV stations. “Oh, fuck,” he breathes and slaps his hands over his mouth, looking around at the others with surprise in his eyes like he just now noticed how formal-looking they all are.

“We have enough time to get you into a … nicer set of clothes if we hurry up,” Richard tells him, trying not to sound too harsh about it. Aidan takes no offence, fortunately, and agrees wholeheartedly, already jogging back out the door with Richard at his heels.

“I really didn’t think about what I was wearing,” Aidan says as they’re hopping into his trailer, a little out of breath since they sort of doesn’t have time for this.

Richard sniggers and follows Aidan over to his little wardrobe at the end of the trailer, “No worries, just find something that looks a bit more proper than what you were wearing and we should be set.”

Aidan blushes at Richard’s comment towards the state of his current outfit and promptly opens the wardrobe closet, letting out a distressed sound when he sees the lack of … well, everything in there.

“I was sure I had more stuff than this!” he says and starts rummaging through the sets of clothes he does find; just a bunch of worn jeans, boring t-shirts and more flannel. Tons of flannel. There’s a suit hanging there too, but that would be _just a tad_ too formal for this occasion.

“Umm,” Richard tries, but truth be told he’s at a bit of a loss here too. “Don’t you have any cardigans? Some dress shirts?” Most people would think him strange for his love of cardigans, but they’re comfortable and they look nice and proper; and he really, really loves cardigans.

Aidan stops for a moment and furrows his brows, eyes sliding over the clothes that are now on the floor as he thinks. “No,” he answers a moment later, looking too upset about it for Richard’s liking. “I don’t have anything, I rarely go shopping as it is, this is everything I have! Oh my god, I’m going to look like such an idiot.”

He goes on for a bit more, but by the time every other word in his sentences is _fuck_ , Richard finally comes up with something.

“Aidan, shush.” Aidan looks up with desperation in his eyes. “Have you got any black jeans?”

-

They’re walking back over to the others ten minutes later, Aidan in a pair of his own dark jeans, a black hoodie and a black leather jacket. The other garments are Richard’s, a bit big in size, but they fit him nicely. Dean certainly seems to appreciate the sight, to both Richard and Aidan’s liking, though Aidan isn’t quite as up to speed with what the looks Dean sends him means as Richard is.

It’s getting a bit annoying, but so far Richard thinks he’s handling the two-idiots-in-love-situation rather well. He’s even forming a plan as to how to get the dance they both seem quite content to keep doing around each other transformed from a poor excuse of the _chicken dance_ to a well-rehearsed wedding waltz – _forming_ being the key-word. He has yet to come up with something decent and guaranteed to work, in other words, locking them inside a closet and give them not-so-subtle hints on what they have to do to get out is out of the question.

There were several approving nods from the rest of their cast mates when they walked in, Aidan in his “new” outfit, some even added impressed whoops and nudges and claps on Aidan’s back.

“Thank you, Richard,” Aidan said when he managed to get a hold of him again. He was smiling shyly with his hands down his pockets; Dean standing beside him, appraising him with his eyes and fond smiles.

Richard let out a laugh and told him not to worry about it. “It’s no problem, Aidan, really,” he said and returned the hurried and somewhat spastic embrace when Aidan jerked forward and hugged him.

“I really appreciate it, you know,” Aidan said in a more hushed tone, only for Richard to hear. “You takin’ care of me, I mean, it means a lot.”

Richard blinked at his younger cast mate, not quite sure how to react. “It’s, uh, it’s-,”

“It’s almost as if yer my uncle,” Aidan babbles on and appears to have lost the ability to stand still; he keeps shifting his weight, brushing strands of hair behind his ears when his constant moving about ruffles it up again. “Uncle, Richard,” he mumbles, almost unintelligible, but Richard catches it and tries in vain to fight down a blush.

Richard is about to say something and change the subject before this becomes too weird, but just then the TV people come in with their cameras and interviewers, cutting the end of their conversation short.

“I’m just happy to help,” he says, to which Aidan smiles and nods. “If, uh, there’s anything you just ask, you know.”

“I know,” Aidan responds and smiles that cheeky grin of his that makes Richard want to pinch his cheeks and call him adorable, but he’d not _actually_ his uncle so he doesn’t allow himself to do that.

“Go on then,” Richard laughs when he sees the others are introducing themselves to the TV people and ruffles Aidan’s hair.

-

The interviews went well, but Richard still made sure to not be too far away when it was Aidan and Dean’s turn, wanting to be there in case something … unexpected happened, which wasn’t so farfetched as it sounded when it came to those two. Luckily, for the whole lot of them, it didn’t.

***

It was a few months later when Richard noticed how strange Aidan had been acting lately; keeping mostly to himself when he would usually spend time with Dean. He was quieter too, which was most disconcerting since Aidan was the loudest of the bunch, and always in a good mood.

Aidan was sitting by himself under a large tree in what was the place they’d use as _Mirkwood_ when they’d run into Radagast the Brown. Richard had been casting glances in his direction for a while before finally walking over there before their break would end.

Aidan was resting his back against the thick trunk of an old tree, tearing chunks of grass out of the ground, collecting them in his lap before he took to knotting them. He looked so forlorn and sad that Richard’s heart stung in his chest just from taking in the sight of him.

He walked over and shrugged off Thorin’s cape before joining him on the ground. Aidan didn’t look up, but stopped his attempt at braiding three blades of grass together. They sat beside each other in silence for a few moments before Richard eventually spoke.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, mindful to keep his voice low so the others wouldn’t hear; this was no concern of theirs.

Aidan cleared his throat and started tearing up grass again, but threw them away this time as opposed to keeping them in his lap. “No, I’m fine.”

Richard narrowed his eyes, “Aidan.”

It should’ve made Richard think about which way their relationship was leading them when Aidan immediately deflated, bending his knees up in front of his chest. “I don’t know, uncle Richard, it’s something stupid, don’t worry about it.”

Aidan didn’t appear to have noticed his own slip-up, but Richard did and it filled him with a warmth that only made itself known when there were scenes of this nature between Thorin and Kili, but even then it didn’t feel as consuming as it did now.

He decided to ignore it for now in favor of helping Aidan sort out whatever was bugging him. “You know, I would be inclined to believe you,” he throws in a pointed look for good measure. “Hadn’t it been for the lack of a certain Dean O’Gorman sitting beside you instead of _me_ right now.”

Aidan looks down at his hands, his fingertips are green and there’s dirt under his nails. “I don’t think you could help me anyway.”

Richard scoots a little closer and turns a bit so he can face him better, “What do you mean?”

Instead of answering, Aidan loops his arms around his knees, looking at nothing.

“Has it got something to do with …” he’s not sure if he should be asking about it, feeling like he might be forcing Aidan to keep up his end of the conversation. “With Dean?” he finishes and immediately sees that he’s guessed correctly; Aidan’s shoulders slumps down accompanied by a tired sigh.

“Yeah,” Aidan says around a bitter laugh, turning his head halfway around and looks up at Richard.

Richard knows exactly what’s going on, but chooses to act like he doesn’t for the sake of not making Aidan feel like he’s been in the dark about this the whole time. _Uncle Richard_ , he thinks, and believes Aidan might be right about that one.

“D’you wanna talk about it? Whatever it is?”

That simple opening of a door was apparently all Aidan needed; he whips around and looks at Richard with these eyes that just pleads for help. “I’m in love with him.”

Richard tries to act surprised, he really does, “O-oh? Well that’s, eh, grand innit?”

“ _Grand?!_ ” comes the shout in answer before he remembers where he is. “ _Grand?_ ” he hisses again through his teeth, flicking his eyes back to where the rest of the cast is, making sure they didn’t hear his sudden outburst. “This is not grand, unc-, uh, Richard. Sorry”

“It’s fine,” Richard says referring to the slip-up, and smiles when Aidan relaxes a bit, though there’s still tension in his shoulders. “And why does this make you so upset? I thought you liked Dean.”

“I do, I do like Dean,” Aidan mutters and covers his face with his hands.

“Then what’s the matter?”

Aidan laughs, but it sounds sad and it makes Richard want to gather him up in his arms and never let him go; or get Dean, that would be a great idea.

“I don’t think Dean thinks of me that way.”

 _Idiots, both of them_ , Richard thinks and represses the urge to groan and butt his head against the tree until either Dean or Aidan decides to do something about their _obvious_ feelings for each other.

“Oh?” Richard eventually says, taking note of Peter gathering their other cast mates, getting them ready to continue shooting, while trying to find the right words to explain to Aidan that what he thinks might not be the case.

“Yes.”

“Well, I don’t think you should make your mind up about what Dean might be feeling just yet,” he settles on saying and hopes he hasn’t said too much; he wants Aidan to figure this out on his own, though it’s getting harder and harder to keep by that.

“Wh-, you think-,” Aidan stutters before shaking his head, refusing to believe it. “No.”

Richard’s patience is running out and so is their time; Peter is chatting with the others, casting the occasional glance in Richard and Aidan’s direction, but not calling them over yet. He probably has an idea of what they might be talking about.

“I think he might like you too, actually.” This is tiring. And his head hurts.

“I really don’t think so! That’s just not my luck, okay,” Aidan whines and rests his head on his knees, acting too much like a petulant child for Richard’s liking, though there’s something adorable about Aidan’s sometimes-childlike behavior.

This time Richard does scoot over close enough to throw his arm around Aidan’s shoulders, hoping the gesture is reassuring and not imposing. “Maybe the universe has finally decided to give you a break, then,” he says, feeling like he might snap soon if Aidan won’t stop dismissing this thing as something completely surreal and not-something-that-would-happen-to-someone-like-him.

“You really think so? Like, _really?_ ” Aidan mutters, “’cus I don’t, I mean, I can’t.”

 _Can’t or won’t?_ Richard wants to ask, but manages to refrain himself, deciding to have a similar talk to Dean instead, hoping that might go better than this. “Don’t make your mind up about this quite yet, Aidan, trust me,” he says and gets up once he sees Peter waving them over.

Aidan gives a vague nod before standing up himself to follow Richard back to the others.

***

Over the course of the next weekend Richard keeps thinking about how to solve the two-idiots-in-love thing that has transformed from just being an under the surface kind of thing, to a real problem. Aidan is still keeping to himself and Dean’s starting to pick up on it. The role of Uncle Richard is getting tougher than he thought it would be, but still he has immersed himself in this part as Aidan’s caretaker, it’s not right walking away from it after all this time.

He talks to Dean on a Sunday, three days later, keeping it short and to the point because he would very much like to _wait for them to figure this out themselves_ than do it this way, but feeling like he has no choice by now, he decides to tell him everything anyway.

***

On Monday Richard keeps close eye on Dean and Aidan, but makes sure to keep his distance; god knows the boys have some things to talk about. He stands back and starts a conversation with Stephen and Jed as a cover since he’s really only interested in what’s going to happen between the boys when they're eventually going to walk into the cafeteria too.

He’s engaged in a rather boring discussion about whether or not there’ll be pizza for supper that afternoon or lasagna; Adam chiming in saying he heard there’d be taco, making the whole discussion start all over again, but this time it's louder.

Richard rolls his eyes and stays out of the conversation, just then seeing Dean and Aidan walking in the door. He watches closely as they shuffle over to get their food before finding a table, one that’s empty, and sit down together.

He notes with grim disappointment that nothing appears to have between the two of them, they’re just sitting beside each other, eating. Perhaps Dean thought it best not to tell Aidan anything.

He’s about to get food for himself when he casts a glance back at them and sees Dean’s arm resting on the back of Aidan’s chair. A smile creeps onto his lips and he barely manages not to jump around in joy when Dean moves his arm to hold it around Aidan’s waist instead.

“ _Finally_ ,” he mumbles to himself, forgetting that James has just walked up to them to give them his own theories about that whole ‘what’s for supper’ deal they’ve got going.

“What?” James asks, raising his brows, munching on those nuts of his.

“Nothing,” Richard hawks and turns his attention away from the couple five tables away. He smiles and reminds himself to set the alarm on for tomorrow so he has enough time to get Aidan and Dean up for make-up; he has the feeling his younger cast mates are going to need the extra time to wake up.

“Alrighty then,” James mutters and walks away, joining Ian and Martin at a table near the window.

Richard risks another glance in Aidan and Dean’s direction, fighting to keep his grin down at seeing how happy they both are.


End file.
